Anniversary (inspired by linstock's 'Yin & Yang' artwork)
by Zizi.West
Summary: So a Vulcan never forgets? After a risky mission, Spock seems...different, and Nyota is worried. Fortunately, they've got caring friends. Multi-part drabble inspired by the talented linstock's lovely, intimate fanart titled Yin and Yang, the cover art shown here. See the original on her LJ page or as a post in the Spock/Uhura group. Warnings: Sweetness, Emo!Spock.
1. Hush

_Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage_. – Lao Tzu

Vulcans didn't forget anniversaries. Any human reckless enough to care for a Vulcan was just as likely to remember. Rings weren't practical in her role as Communications Officer, and they drew unfavorable attention on some planets, but Nyota Uhura wore her love for her bondmate the same way some people wore wedding rings: quietly, consistently, shining brightly when something illuminated it.

Then the uneasy balance of Starfleet life tipped against her hopes. Fears over Spock's fate on an away mission involving a hostile scientist who controlled a small supply of a valuable chemical almost made Nyota forget their anniversary. Gratitude filled every cell and space of her entire being when she saw Spock, flanked by McCoy and Sulu, materialize on the transporter pad. Spock's body was bruised beneath his torn uniform, but he was otherwise whole and safely returned to her after three frightening days.

Upon Spock's return from Sickbay, Nyota settled him into their shared cabin with tea and a meditation robe. He drank the tea, touched her hand, and Nyota and waited for him to talk to her about what had happened. Instead, he withdrew to meditate.

She sat holding her own cooling tea, wondering what to do. Finally she decided to pray – gratitude this time, instead of a plea for help – and go to bed. After what seemed like a long time Spock lay down beside her on the freshly changed sheets and pulled her close.

"Love. My love. Stay here. You're not needed on the bridge yet. Just feel what you need to feel," Nyota said. Their embrace was warm and comforting and his kiss gentle, but Spock still said little. He muted their mental bond, concealing his memories of frustration at the wrong turn the mission had taken and the longing he'd felt during their captivity.

Nyota moved aside their clothing so that more of their skin touched, knowing it would help him more than her. As a touch telepath, Spock would sense her concern and affection for him. As for herself…

Sighing, Nyota drew upon her empathy and knowledge of her bondmate to try to understand. Both his eyelids and the arm draped over her waist seemed heavy; Vulcan strength didn't completely prevent fatigue and stress. His jaw grew less tense. At last his breathing slowed, eased, calmed as she felt him drift away from her again.

She kissed his forehead, knowing it would be their last kiss of the night before she slept. Planning a simple, romantic anniversary dinner was not something to discuss now. Better to leave things open in case either of them experienced any emotions which felt difficult to control.

Starfleet's relentless schedule must also be considered. Their next rotation into shore leave began in about eleven hours. When they awoke Nyota and Spock would travel to the surface of Punctilio-26, a Federation planet, and check into Starfleet crew quarters. Almost immediately, they would need to join Captain Kirk and other officers in making an appearance at a diplomatic reception. Punctilio-26 was renowned for its gorgeous Earthlike landscapes, economic stability, love of cheese-like foods, and earnest, industrious humanoid population. The Punctilians weren't known for their sense of humor, but as a Communications Officer Nyota knew how to be cordial even among the grumpy.

Mandatory party attendance seemed less disconcerting than trying to reassure a brooding, uncommunicative Spock. He looked at her so intensely, held her close, but said little. It made Nyota feel as though she could not help him.


	2. Loud

Hours later – it was already early evening planetside- members of the _Enterprise_ crew stood in a large, elegantly decorated room. The wealth of this particular world was on restrained display: wall and ceiling panels decorated with abstract paintings in muted colors; exotic potted plants and large sculptures; jewels and rare metals shining on the clothing of the assembled dignitaries. Musicians performed at one end of the long room, sounding notes reminiscent of water rushing over stones.

The shantung-textured fabric of the dress jackets worn by male _Enterprise_ officers was stark compared to the richness of the local clothing. Gold, blue, red: the solid colors provided an intriguing contrast, bringing the old adage about handsome men in uniform to life. Comfortable in his role as Captain, Jim Kirk basked in the glow of attention. He exchanged flirtatious looks with a few partygoers who boldly gazed back.

Nyota owned a dress jacket, but she'd chosen different clothing tonight. Instead she wore a long evening gown in dark Starfleet red and elegant silver earrings with a moderately sized drop. It was culturally acceptable to wear her hair down here, which was just as well. She'd worried more than she'd slept, and that left her without the mental energy for creative hair ideas for the party. Shoes were not typically worn inside here – not even at parties – so Nyota changed into a pair of flat, soft slippers at the front door.

The red gown wasn't new, but she liked its smooth, satiny fabric, flattering bias cut, and fairly high neck – her collarbones showed, but no cleavage. On four separate occasions, Spock had told Nyota that she looked very appealing in the dress. She would have liked to hear him say it again tonight, as they both dressed quietly in their small guest room with its minimalist decor.

Jim winked at her each time he saw her wearing the dress. Nyota usually told Jim to behave himself; if Spock wasn't looking she'd stick her elbow in Jim's ribs for emphasis.

Tomorrow was their anniversary. Spock still hadn't said a thing about it.

Looking up at Spock, Nyota observed faint shadows beneath his eyes; otherwise he appeared smooth, calm, professional. A rush of affection spiked with desire made her thoughts wander. For a moment she wished that the room were less brightly lit so that she could pull him aside and caress the side of his face, press a kiss to his mouth, and give his full, fine bottom lip the kind of little bite he liked.

Earlier she'd considered upgrading their on-planet lodging request from _Basic Partners - Comfortable_ to _Romantic Partners_ – _Healing Package_, only to read on her padd that no such rooms were available. Perhaps it wasn't too late – she could slip away from the party for a moment, contact the guesthouse to request a room change. Something else, anything else. Maybe Spock would like the change in routine enough to relax…or maybe he would prefer to spend their leave time meditating and she'd need to leave him by himself. Would her _Enterprise_ crewmates take pity on her, take her along on a hiking expedition, a bar, shopping, anything to prevent her from feeling lonely and worried?

The volume of conversation rose as Federation and Starfleet representatives worked the room. Organizing a mental list of people to greet, Nyota stepped away from Spock, looking over her shoulder with a regretful glance, and began her rounds.

If only this were a real party! At a purely social occasion, she could rest her hand in the crook of Spock's elbow and pay more attention to the music. A few older people sat on upholstered benches away from the busiest areas of the party; not ignored, but not the focus of much attention either. Nyota eased away from the aggressive networking and greeted the elders, chatting with them about their lives on the planet before moving on.

Glancing around, she saw Spock surrounded by the usual cluster of diplomats curious about Vulcans. His facial expression – by now she could read him from near and far – hinted at displeasure. Vulcans were still a novelty on Punctilio-26. Nyota knew that although Spock was accustomed to being on display, he disliked it. She squared her shoulders, ready to prepare an excuse to extricate Spock from the conversation. Their mental bond opened far enough for her to know that the little group talked to Spock about science; he did not wish to be rescued, if only for the sake of politeness.

_Please don't overexert yourself, sweetheart_. Nyota let the bond close and kept to the perimeter of the room, chatting with a few people who looked shy without imposing upon their time. She asked the catering staff their opinion on the popularity of unfamiliar local foods resembling cheese. When she began walking again, Spock had vanished.

Nyota suddenly felt overwhelmed by the size of the party; the Communications Officer couldn't communicate any longer without a break. She leaned against the wall behind a sculpture shaped like an enormous abstract bush, hiding.

"Hey there, Ny," Dr. Leonard McCoy was always a welcome sight, and she smiled.

"Hi, Len. I should have known that a gentleman who appreciates art would find me here."

McCoy looked down at the cup of water in her hand. "Want to add some kick to that? I brought my flask with me. Sometimes these bureaucratic parties benefit from the addition of distilled beverages."

"Oh, Len. As diplomatic parties go, this one's fine. Most people are probably having some fun mixed in with all the professional networking. Everyone's been very polite."

"Yeah, and I cain't take another doggone minute of it. Light conversation here involves weather patterns, rock formations, the efficiency of their transportation system, and other stuff unlikely to lead to a good time on a Saturday night." He rolled his eyes.

"Try talking about food instead," Nyota suggested. "I just had an interesting discussion about non-dairy cheese production methods with some nice people working the catering table."

"Do tell. The fun just don't stop around here," he drawled. " Say, where's your man?"

Nyota glanced around the room. "I'm not sure. He was making appropriate conversation. Len, Spock's been very quiet, almost moody, since he returned from that mission. I'm afraid that this big party might be too much for him after that bad experience you three had."

McCoy shrugged. "It was a mite scary, but that's Starfleet for ya. Spock's probably gonna spend a few more days analyzing it." He smiled sympathetically at Nyota's audible sigh. "Don't worry, sugar, he'll come round eventually. You come tell me if he doesn't." McCoy discreetly pulled out a silver flask and fortified his own drink. "How about _you_, Ms. Uhura. Are _you_ all right?"

"Those three days were…difficult. Bad for all of the crew, we wanted to get you all aboard safely. I'm so relieved that everyone survived, but even with Spock back, I'm worried."

McCoy touched her shoulder reassuringly. "Don't wait to ask for help if you need it. Use this shore leave to rest. Could be a few more days of quiet will help both of you. Try not to stay in the guesthouse; go out walking, do something easy. Listen, you've made an appearance at this party, so don't feel an obligation to stay. I'll cover for you. I'll just tell folks you had to check staff messages or somethin'. Ever'body knows you're a workaholic so they'll believe me."

Nyota gave his arm a fond, grateful, affectionate squeeze. "Thank you, Len. You're so thoughtful; what would the _Enterprise_ be without you?"

"Helluva lot quieter, probably. Go on, make your escape." A trace of affection softened his gruff tone.

Three broad corridors led into to the large room; Nyota chose to walk into the one with the fewest people near it, hoping to find an alcove or room away from the light and activity.

The corridor's walls were decorated with large paintings; two party guests strolled past, admiring the art. Slowing her pace so that she didn't look as though she were fleeing, Nyota exchanged greetings and kept walking. She passed several closed doors. Finally she saw one door standing open, and carefully looked inside.


	3. Tell

Professional obligations fulfilled, Spock began to feel Nyota's absence keenly. Busy social events such as this were more comfortable with her beside him. He searched the crowd, but even for a tall man, it was not easy to find her on this planet of equally tall people. He paused and opened his mind to her. Nyota's side of the mental bond was subdued, sad. Spock frowned, unsettling a few people nearby who immediately pretended that they had not been staring at him.

"Spock." Dr. McCoy stood behind him with a glass in one hand.

"Doctor?"

"Yonder," the doctor said, gesturing with his drink towards a corridor.

"Thank you, Leonard." Feeling his shoulders relax, Spock inclined his head, then turned and strode away.

McCoy sighed. "I'm a doctor, not a relationship counselor. But I might could moonlight as one." He moved back into the crowd. Maybe he could convince Sulu and Scotty into going out on the town later.

…

Light reflected from the planet's two closest moons shone through a tall window, revealing the surprising sight of wall shelving filled with books in various formats: old-style Earth books made from paper, discs, tablets, strips of basketry with pieces of shell woven into them. Nyota walked around the room, admiring the effort to create an old-fashioned library. Plush upholstered furniture, thick carpets, and large floor pillows invited visitors to linger.

A fireplace glowed warmly in the center of one wall. The fire wasn't real, of course; this was a heavily forested planet and people were obsessed with safety. If one pushed a switch, gases sealed behind protective glass flickered to life behind an orange-tinted protective panel. The fire panel was convincing enough to make this refuge feel cozy. Nyota pulled a large pillow in front of the fire and sat down.


	4. Murmur

Spock passed a few party guests in the corridor. He tried not to look anxious as he passed several closed doors, unsure which one hid Nyota. Perhaps he had been too preoccupied with his own thoughts last night, causing her to feel as though he did not appreciate her efforts to help him – or worse, that he did not want her near him.

_Yonder_, McCoy had said. Yonder where? Spock tried opening the mental bond again.

_Ashayam_ (beloved),_ do you wish to be alone?_

"No! No, I do _not_." Her voice was muffled by the closed door, but Spock heard her answer clearly with ears and mind. He turned the doorknob and entered the room, shutting the door behind him.

Nyota sat on a pillow atop a carpet patterned in deep colors. Spock stood by the door for a moment, watching the warm light from the fireplace panel play over her face and bared shoulders. When was the last time he'd told her how attractive and desirable she was to him? Too long; he remembered the day and the hour, and he realized that he should have told her again earlier that evening.

She gave him a half-smile. "Did you want to leave for the guesthouse now?" she asked, beginning to rise to her feet.

"No. Please stay." Spock crossed the room; Nyota pulled over a large pillow for him, and he sat down beside her, facing away from the fire so that he could give her his attention. "Thank you. Earlier I considered suggesting that we leave, but I would like to remain here with you instead."

"Oh. What for?" She looked at him uncertainly.

"I…have no particular reason. I simply want to be with you."

Slowly, she smiled more broadly. "No plan? No discussion?"

"We may a have a discussion if you wish it."

Her eyes shone in the dim light as though she'd been about to cry, but no tears fell when she nodded. "Let's make a deal, Commander." Nyota turned so that she sat facing him, their bodies in opposite directions. "We give this three minutes, and when we're done we either go back to that party or…do something else. Agreed?"

"Agreed, Lieutenant." The determined set of her chin made him smile.

"You've been very quiet since you returned from the mission, and I'm worried about you," she began. "I read the mission report, so I know what events happened, and when, but is there something else that you aren't telling me?"

"I would never conceal any significant occurrence from Starfleet."

"What about from _me_? Something emotional? Sweetheart, please don't think you can't tell me if it helps you. Do you want to spend shore leave alone instead of with me so that you can think through what happened? You mentioned a monastery on New Vulcan once -"

Spock touched her shoulder. "_Tal-kam_ (dear one), no. Separation from you would cause a sort of distress that the mission did not. I do not wish to cloister myself in a monastery, nor do I find this party entirely disagreeable. Our hosts are gracious and welcoming. I simply need…a respite."

Nyota touched his cheek. "Perhaps it's too soon for you to spend a long evening socializing and managing Federation diplomacy at a party with over one hundred guests?" She stroked the back of his hand. "You need a little more time to decompress?"

"As you know, I passed the required medical and psychological evaluations, but…yes." Sighing, he turned his hand so that he could clasp hers. "Speaking of what happened will not change things. I have analyzed my own errors in threat assessment and preparation and will strive to avoid repeating those mistakes."

"I understand; that's what you always do." She lay down on her side, still holding his hand. "Why have you spoken so little after we were reunited?"

"Nyota, I did not talk about the mission with you because I prefer to leave it behind. Being with you in our cabin was restorative for me. Last night I needed nothing more than to hold you, or to know that you were no more than one room away from me. I did not want to revisit the possibility of permanent separation from you; such a thought, and the emotions attached to them, are deeply painful." Spock realized that he clasped her hand a bit too tightly and relaxed his grip.

"Everyone on the bridge worked their hardest to get you, Len, and Sulu back."

"You refused to take mandated breaks until ordered away from the bridge, I was told."

"Having you back meant everything." Nyota slid her hand around to his side, feeling the reassuring thump of his heart.

"A full two minutes have now passed. I find that I prefer not to discuss the matter further," Spock said.

Nyota rested her head on her free hand. "Breaking a rule, Commander? You must be feeling a bit wild tonight."

"I feel..." Spock's gaze met hers, then moved down. The bias cut of her gown caused the dark red satin to outline the contours of her body in a most enticing fashion. Of course, he had seen Nyota before the party, but he had somehow not truly _noticed_ how the gown made her look. While Nyota was walking and standing the gown had seemed almost modest, her legs concealed. How could the design of a simple garment be so deceptive? "I am reminded of statues of reclining goddesses of various Earth cultures."

Nyota welcomed the suddenly warmer climate of the room. "Oh?" She rolled from her side onto her back. Light from the fireplace gave the cloth over her thighs a slight gleam, and cast patterns of brightness and shadow over the soft hills and valleys of her body.

Spock groaned and pulled ineffectually at the high collar of his dress jacket. "Our discussion of emotions has weakened my control."

Nyota patted the soft carpet. "Lie down with me and relax. Nobody's likely to come looking for us." Spock did, without mentioning that his dress trousers also felt tighter. He would lie down on his back for a brief time to ease the pressure while he compartmentalized his thoughts and feelings. Their bodies lay in opposite directions, but her lips were close…

Nyota looked at the shadows below his eyes, more noticeable when they lay so close, and frowned. Three days and too many hours since they'd lain this way while awake.

"Promise me that you'll rest during our leave time," Nyota said. "Spend time alone if you want to. Read. Meditate. Walk around with me. Or just sleep. You've been through a lot lately."

Spock turned his head towards her. "You have also experienced much."

"Unlike you, I'm not carrying heavy responsibilities for protecting the lives of an entire crew."

"_Adun'a _(wife), if I may differ, you _do_ care for their well-being in the interpersonal sense."

Smiling, she moved closer. "That's very sweet, _adun_ (husband), but I'm still a little worried about you."

The faint perfume she wore smelled good, with a hint of cinnamon. The subtle scent seemed to flow upward from between her breasts. A warm feeling that had little to do with the fire flowed through him. Although she wasn't looking directly at him - her eyelids, outlined by an artful sweep of some cosmetic preparation, were lowered – Spock felt her keen awareness of him.

Grateful for his presence, his warmth, Nyota breathed him in. Spock rarely used colognes, saying that they were nonessential, but he did enjoy some practical, sensual comforts. Sandalwood soap tonight? Yes - it was from a good, unglamorous, well-made brand she'd bought for him during an Earth visit: a simple gift for her bondmate on a previous anniversary.

They lay on the soft pillows and carpet, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

"You need not worry. I will pursue restorative activities during our shore leave. May I distract you?" His warm fingertips smoothed over her temples, rested there.

"Mmm." He'd touched her hand as they entered the party, but there had been no other physical contact until they entered this room. Under the caress of his fingertips, she moaned helplessly.

"Your visual presentation of yourself tonight is both graceful and alluring, Nyota. Please forgive me for not telling you earlier; I know that it pleases you to hear it."

"Thank you," she murmured as Spock pressed light kisses over her forehead, the bridge of her nose, her chin. Nyota felt as though her body floated in a daze of heated anticipation; she could hear the music from the party, ever so faintly.

Spock pulled away. "_Ashayam_, I will say one more thing about the mission. Despair is in opposition to basic tenets of Vulcan philosophy. You know that I spent those three days developing escape strategies in collaboration with Mr. Sulu and Dr. McCoy. Also, my awareness of a certain date strengthened my resolve."

Nyota watched him, fascinated by the emotion plainly visible in his dark eyes.

"Each day since our bonding has taken on a different level of meaning, Nyota. If I am honest…each day since our _meeting_ has made my life different. '_I have no other star. You are my replica of the multiplying universe_'."

She recognized the quotation from Neruda, the ancient, beloved poet, and smiled.

"_You are mine, mine, woman with sweet lips and in your life my infinite dreams live."_ His fingers stroked her temple.

"_What it takes on this planet, to make love to each other in peace."_ His voice, so deep, was enchanting. All tension between them long gone, Nyota felt their mental bond open again and accepted the image Spock showed her:

A private cottage some distance away from the guesthouse, waiting for the two of them; Spock had already requested that their bags be moved. The cottage was more elaborate than the room she'd wanted to book for their shore leave. Its garden seemed to overflow with colorful flowers. She saw a small pond, a bench at its edge. Inside the cottage, a food storage unit in a tidy kitchen held some of her favorite things to eat. A bedroom contained a large, comfortable looking bed. There was more – she got an impression of a concert, plans for socializing with their friends among the crew and diplomatic corps, and completely unscheduled time to do anything they wished.

It was enough to tell her what she needed to know. Here they were, lying down in yin and yang position. Somehow they'd moved back into orbit together. Nyota reached out and stroked Spock's dark hair.

"I did not forget," Spock whispered against her lips, and kissed her. Nyota kissed him back.

_I knew you wouldn't_.

The End

…

The Pablo Neruda quotations come from several different works. Please forgive me for not providing separate citations for all of them; I will try to come back & add them when I have more time.


End file.
